


The Hamiltons Move Uptown

by KayDiggsWriting



Series: The Sins Of A Sacrifice [8]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blink and you'll miss it, Death, F/M, Forgiveness, Freeform, Getting Back Together, Hamgelica, Hamliza, Heartbreak, Kind of happy ending, Lots of Crying, Mention of Lams, OBC - Freeform, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Love, better at tags, different from the song, its quiet uptown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 17:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12537188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayDiggsWriting/pseuds/KayDiggsWriting
Summary: Three months after the death of Philip Hamilton and things have only gotten worse. Alexander Hamilton can't live like this. He won't live like this.Or, Angelica Church brings the two people she loves more than anything back together.





	The Hamiltons Move Uptown

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to read the other fics to understand this one. But you still should. 
> 
> I'm not a big fan of my writing in this story. I don't know why this one was so hard to write. I apologize in advance if it sucks.

Philip was gone.

The sun hadn't shined since.

It'd been almost a month since the sky was lit. Of course the night broke and the day fell. Nature wouldn't stop its course just because the most beautiful heart in the world stopped beating. But the skies were dauntingly gray. Storm cloud made themselves permanent residents. And rain became a frequent visitor. Alexander wondered if the people of the town knew why. If they understood that even the heavens were mourning the loss of such a pure soul.

His son was gone. His sun was gone.

Alexander became acquainted with death early on in his life. The death of the love of his father when he left them. The death of his beautiful mother. The death of a cousin he barely knew. The death of peace in his town when the hurricane struck. The death of nearly his entire island. The death of his fellow soldiers. The death of the soldiers at his opposition. The death of a man he loved as he shouldn't have. The death of his career. The death of the happiness in his marriage. All fundamental losses. All bringing their own levels of grief. None marginally comparing to what he felt now.

Philip Hamilton was no longer alive. So neither was his father. Not really. Alexander Hamilton had been dead since the twenty fourth day of November. Just before dawn. Just fourteen hours after his boy had been shot. _Fourteen hours_. His brave boy lasted fourteen hours with a hole through his person.

_His son. His sun._

Alexander fainted upon first view of the younger on his death bed. The scene was entirely too much. Even for a man who'd previously faced, first hand, the casualties of war. Philip's skin was a gray too ashen to hold life. His hair damp with sweat and the tears of his family surrounding him. His eyes stuck open just so they wouldn't close. The lifeless gaze couldn't be _truly_ seeing anything. His lips were chapped. Blood drying in the cracks of the sensitive skin. Parted with words he must long to say but would never get the opportunity to. His body was weakened. Only having had nineteen years to prepare for the trauma the bullet would do inside. Now you tell him, what man could bare witness to such a sight and stand on still feet?

Philip Hamilton refused to weep as he lay with his last moments to live. So Alexander did it for him. It was the least he could do. And it was the most he could do. His arms wrapped around the first life he helped create. Holding on with a strength that the boy would have complained about had he been able to. Maybe... _maybe_ if he held on tight enough, the soul wouldn't have the space to leave his body.

That morning, Alexander Hamilton did something he hadn't done since he was a boy on the island of Nevis. He prayed. Begging and bargaining to a God that had always been indifferent to his prayers. A God he'd ceased believing in so long ago. A God who'd always disappointed him in the end. When he'd prayed for daddy to come home so mommy would stop crying. When he'd prayed for mommy to get better as she held him through their sickness. When he prayed for the storm - _God_  had created- to be gentle with the sweet people on his island. And then, when he'd prayed for his son's life to be spared. Of course, being the selfish bastard that he was, the lord ignored Alexander's pleas. He destroyed Alexander's family.

An hour couldn't pass in the Hamilton home without the sound of a sob breaking. Be it Eliza's or one of the children's. Sometimes all. They would hold each other and they would cry until their bodies refused to produce any more tears. Alexander suffered in the privacy of his office. Alone. No one bothering to check on him. Philip was the only one of his children who didn't seem angry with him. Philip never glared at Alexander for his adultery. Philip still held his name with pride. But now Philip was gone. The rest of his family resented him still. And for good reason. He destroyed their trust and respect with his infidelity. And just as they were healing, he destroyed their love when he sent his son on a suicide mission. The loneliness was what he deserved. What he thought he preferred.

Three months later and nothing changed since that day. At least not for Alexander. He spent his days as the ghost he'd become. Walking the length of the town in his solitude. Journeying until his legs were no longer able to move. On one particularly restless night, he tired out just at the edge of the city. Just at the start of the river. He'd been walking since breakfast. His body was spent. His mind was anything but.

The water was dark. Just as the sky had become. It seemed so simple when he looked into the river. The current crashing just near his feet. If he could get his body to move a little further, this would all be over. He would easily sink to the bottom. Lower and lower with none of the tiring effort it took for him live each day without Philip. Life was much too difficult for a man who was a ghost. Death... _death_ would be the blessing the 'good lord' always refused him. Welcoming. Inviting. A promise to end the torture Alexander Hamilton was enduring. It only needed to be offered once. He accepted. Maybe when he was with Philip again, his boy's soul would be content. The sky would open to shine again.

_His son. His sun._

"You knock me out." He spoke into the sky. Hoping the whisper could be heard from the afterlife. "I fall apart."

Alexander took one of the two steps it would take for him to go under. To be happy again. His heart raced with excitement. For the first time in a long time, something other than pain surged through him. _Hope_. His left foot lifted for his final step. He could practically see his son's beautiful face in the dark waves. The face as it was before he laid dying in bed. He closed his eyes to hold it in memory. Alexander would have smiled if he remembered how to.

"Alexander! Where have you been? What are you _doing_?"

His eyes snapped open. That wasn't Philip's voice. He leaned forward on the edge for a better look. His eyes scanning the darkness. The tilt of his body so close to the brink caused the loss of his balance. Alexander felt himself tilting forward. He accepted his fate. His _blessing_. But then he felt himself being yanked away from it. A physically pull. The sudden, unexpected tug made it impossible to do anything but fall flat on his back. Tumbling into a smaller body. A body that let out a soft whimper under his weight.

He was pushed to the side weakly. The force wasn't strong enough to actually move him. But he got the hint and turned himself. Rolling off of who he could now recognize as his eldest sister in law.

"Angelica?"

Calling out her name burned his throat. It'd been too long since he spoke it. Since he had reason to. Like the rest of his family, she hated him. Maybe even more than the others. She'd made that abundantly clear on her first day back from London. She moved back to console her broken hearted sister. Nothing more. And by _console her sister,_ she clearly meant,  _make Alexander's life a living hell_.

Both women refused to speak to him. Never holding his eye for more than a passing moment. Whenever he grew mad with the silence, he would attempt to converse with them. Only for it to end with him being completely ignored or blankly blinked at. They'd bring him food twice a day (that he rarely ate) and that was all. Sometimes he would hear them murmur his name through the walls when they discussed him late nights. The isolation wasn't helpful to his mental state. Alexander could never handle the quiet. He wondered what Philip would make of it.

"Are you _mad_ to get so close to the water when it's too dark to see into it?!" She nearly shrieked. Even in anger, her voice was  beautiful. "You could have fallen in!" 

His offering look was incredulous. She couldn't be that blind to matters. Angelica's gaze remained worriedly confused. So Alexander told her, "That was the plan."

The confusion only deepened. Her pupils danced between the corners of her eyes. Racking her brilliant brain for understanding. Alexander saw the moment clarity hit. Her eyes rounded. Her nostrils flared violently. Gone was the concern. Replaced with the anger he'd gotten used to seeing her wear.

" _The_ _plan_?" She repeated sharply. "You plan to end your own life?"

"I am hardly alive-"

"You've air in your lungs and a rhythm to your heart! You are very much alive."

"My heart hasn't beat since my son's heart stopped."

The mention of her departed nephew softened her features. "Oh, Alexander." It was the first time she spoken his name in what felt like forever. His insides sparked. His heart moved a little. Her fingers reached out on a mission to touch him before she thought better of it. They drew back with an inch to spare from his face. "You are _not_ dead. You're just hurting. We all are."

"I know." And he did. He didn't only lose his son. Angelica and Peggy lost their nephew. His children lost their sibling. And Eliza.... _his Eliza_ lost her first baby. A baby she carried for nine months. A baby she held and fed from her own breasts. A baby she was always there for when Alexander wasn't. Her hurt must trounce his completely.

"Oh, Alexander." It became a chant. Being quietly repeated over and over to his ears until it conquered any other thoughts. And then she touched him. Her thin arms wrapped around him with a strength they shouldn't be capable of. His automatic response was to stiffen in shock. When was the last time someone had touched him with such concern? He didn't know how he should react to it.

"Oh, Angelica!" He whimpered. Throwing himself completely into her. It was too much too fast. Her body fell back onto the dampened grass. But his sister's arms stayed around him. _His sister_. The familiarity made him cry more. For so long she'd only been Eliza's sister. Only regarding Alexander with disgust and hate. That was over now.

He could feel that this was _his_ Angelica again. Feel the brick walls they'd both built around themselves began to crumble at the edges. With every second she hugged him to her, the cement holding the bricks together turned to sand. With every sob that racked his body, with every one of his tears that soaked her dress, hole was blown into the divider. They stayed there, they laid there, until nothing was left between them but the dust of what had separated them.

Alexander was no longer a cheater being ignored by the scorned sister. Alexander was a brother being comforted by the woman who did, and would always, hold his soul. He was a father being allowed to morn his son with another who missed the boy for the first time. Alexander was alive.

 

Angelica and Alexander road her husband's horse back into town. His legs were too abused to walk the distance. When they arrived at his home, Eliza was waiting. She jumped from her place on the couch and rushed them. He expected her to approach Angelica. But instead she grabbed him. Holding his shoulders. Searching his face and form as if to make sure nothing was out of place. Alexander's eyes darted to Angelica's for an explanation.

"You were gone for all of the day and most of the night."

"So much longer than usual."

"And..." He looked between the Schuyler sisters. Both sets of eyes staring back at him with concern instead of contempt. "And you cared?"

"Of course!" Angelica spoke at the same time Eliza sighed,

"Yes."

"Alexander, just because we are angry with you, does not mean we don't care about you."

"You are still my husband." She didn't look at him when she said it. She didn't _mean_ it.

"But." He stepped away from her hands with no aggression. Not wanting them to be touching when he finally admitted this out loud. "I-I killed Philip." His voice broke. As he was sure it would every time he mentioned his late son.

"You did not!" Angelica snapped.

"He entered that duel because of me. To defend my honor. And I-I told him not... I told him not to kill Eaker. To waste his shot."

Elizabeth took an unsteady step back. Her shaking hands dropping to her sides. Everyone knew the duel was for Alexander's honor. Everyone knew Alexander handed Philip his own guns. That was cause enough for hatred. But _this_ wasn't common knowledge.

"Why?" The word was no louder than a breath from her trembling lips.

"Philip was just a boy. No older than I when I took my first life. He could not handle something like that, Betsy."

His explanation did nothing to soothe her. She'd gone from vibrating in sorrow to being set in stone. Frozen to her spot. Emotionless eyes stared back at him. And then stared behind him. Not at Angelica. At something past them. At _nothing_.

"Elizabeth?" Angelica walked around him to tend to her little sister. Running her hand down the side of her face. "Eliza, love."

"In my age now, I still scream from nightmares of the lives I stole in war. Our innocent boy would have been _ruined_. As a father, I should have known better. It was selfish of me to attempt to hold his virtue at the risk of his life. I hate myself." He tired to step to her. Tried to be close again. But his already weakened legs gave out under the added pressures of contrition and sorrow. Alexander fell to his knees in a way sure to leave scarring. "Eliza, I hate myself _so much_." He wept in a way usually done by children. "Each day that passes is a day I want to pass. If I could spare our son's life, if I could trade it for mine, I would do so in an instant. I prayed to God for that, for you, every night. If it would allow you to just smile again, it would be worth my own death." She still hadn't moved. Angelica looked down at him in pity. Like she wanted to console him. But she couldn't let go of her sister. "I know you need time, Eliza. None of my decorated words can mend the cracks in your motherhood. But I am willing to wait. And I am willing to hold your pieces together in a way I can not do my own. Because you are my wife and I love you." Red eyes slid back to his face. Too full of moisture to still be considered impassive. "I don't deserve you Eliza, but please let me hold you together. _Please_! It would be enough for now. And forever."

Angelica urged Elizabeth forward. Guiding her, with a soft hand on her back, to her husband. Just as she'd guided Alexander to Elizabeth that first night. She crashed into him. Unintentionally his face was buried in her dress. On the lower half of her abdomen. Where she'd held their son almost twenty years ago. Neither of them moved then. Alexander frozen in fear of her reaction. Eliza paralyzed with emotional pain. All the time in the world and no time at all passed between them. And then so very slowly, as if not to startle, her hands found themselves tangled in his dark hair. Clinging him closer. To the point where it was impossible to breathe. He desperately gripped the back of her dress. Afraid that if he didn't hold her back, she would let go of him.

"I love you, Alexander." His wife croaked. Her voice dry.

He wanted to stand up. To hold her as a husband should. But even the encouragement of his wife couldn't give him the fortitude losing Philip took from him. Angelica, being the angel she was, understood. She always understood. Alexander felt her push down on Eliza's shoulders. Gently lowering her sister to the floor. Leveling her with Alexander. Finally, he was able to embrace her properly. His arms squeezed her with the same vigor he did their son on his death bed. Eliza's fingers didn't move from his hair.

They stayed there on the floor of their home. Holding each other's pieces together. A grace much too powerful to be named, making them one again. Where they should have been all along. Pushing away all that segregated them. Even if only for this moment in time. A moment when a husband and wife could finally mourn the loss of their son- _their_ _sun_ \- together. And maybe, in this knew found forgiveness, the sky would open. And the sun would shine over their town again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Sorry for errors. Comments and Kudos are cool.


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